Meeting the Past
by AtLoLevad
Summary: Clara and The Doctor see the painting of Gallifrey. But it's not supposed to be possible. And yet, it is. Based on the 50th Anniversary's preview. No spoilers.


"But...it's not possible," Clara gaped at the painting in front of her.

The Doctor opened his mouth to agree, how could there possibly be a painting of Gallifrey in modern-day London? But as Clara's reaction caught up to him, he changed his mind,

"What do you mean, 'it's not possible?' How would you know what's possible?" The Doctor demanded as he moved behind Clara.

She was bent over the painting, studying even the most minute of details, "I know this place!"

"I...er...you...how?" The Doctor spluttered out.

Clara's eyes never left the painting while she answered, "I know this place. I've been to this place."

The Doctor's eyes widened considerably and he sputtered, "Yes, yes. You've been there. But how?"

Clara gazed at the painting longingly, and when she spoke it was like she was in a trance, "A very long time ago. Many lifetimes. I lived here...in Gallifrey."

She whispered the name of his -or maybe their- home planet in reverence. The Doctor couldn't help but catch the note of longing in her voice.

He watched as Clara studied the painting, a few tears dripping down her cheeks. The Doctor sighed and pushed a hand through his messy hair. He had hoped he would never have to deal with this, with Clara knowing -remembering- all of her past lives. And for a long time, she hadn't given any clue that she remembered. So he thought he was safe, that the strange science of his time line had spared her fragile human brain.

But now, as The Doctor watched Clara's thin shoulders shake in silent sobs, he knew they hadn't been so lucky.

He reached out a gentle hand as rested it on Clara's shoulder. Her body stilled, and he could feel her muscles tense up.

"Clara?"

She shook her head, and pointed to the painting, her finger hovering only millimeters above the actual paint, "Here. Right here."

The Doctor peered at the painting, but he was ashamed to say that he wasn't actually sure what Clara was pointing to.

"Erm, Clara, love," The Doctor paused. Love? Where had that come from? He snuck a peek at Clara. She hadn't noticed. Thank Rassilion. "Clara, what exactly are you pointing to?"

A small smile spread across Clara's face, a smile The Doctor recognized as one of nostalgia. "The TARDIS bay, Doctor."

"What's the TARDIS bay got to do with anything?" The Doctor asked, more confused than ever.

Clara finally peeled her eyes away from the painting and turned to face The Doctor.

"The TARDIS bay," she started slowly, "is the place where my very first echo met your very first face."

A tear traced it's way down Clara's cheek, following the others. She wrung her hands together and swiped a hand under her eyes.

The Doctor stared at her, trying hard to remember. He didn't often think back to his first regenerations, his life had been too painful to think about.

"You...we're there," The Doctor finally said, shaking his head, "I was running away and you..."

Now Clara smiled, "Told you to pick a different TARDIS, your TARDIS."

The Doctor smacked a hand to his head, "How could I have forgotten?"

"Your first face was the only one to see one of my echoes, well, at least until this face," Clara said, inhaling deeply.

"Saving me in a different way than I thought you would," The Doctor laughed, and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Clara.

She stood still for a moment, and then melted into the hug, wrapping her arms around his back and pressing her cheek to his chest.

"My Impossible Girl, saving me. Over and over," The Doctor mumbled.

Clara smiled at him as they separated, "You know, you've saved me too."

The Doctor let his hands remain on Clara's arms, "You remember?"

Clara cocked her head, "I do now."

The Doctor sighed, "I had hoped you'd be spared from too many memories."

"Oh no, I want them all, Chin Boy. Every last memory of you. From the white hair, to the scarf, to the umbrella, the leather jacket, the Converse."

"The fez?" The Doctor asked, a smile sprouting on his face.

"I think I could do without the fez," Clara replied cheekily.

"Ooh, you..." The Doctor narrowed his eyes.

"But the bowtie," Clara said, reaching up to straighten the aforementioned accessory, "That I want to remember."

The Doctor reached up to put his hand over Clara's.

Clara looked at their hands and smiled.

"We need to figure out how this happened, Doctor," Clara said softly, turning her head to look at the painting again.

The Doctor dropped Clara's hand and shook his body slightly, "Yes! Yes, of course! We've a mystery on our hands, Clara. And we solve mysteries. That's what we do."

The Doctor whipped out his Sonic and began using it on the painting.

Clara watched him, the biggest mystery in her life.

"A-ha!" The Doctor exclaimed, startling Clara.

She ran forward, "Well? What is it?"

"I have absolutely no clue!" The Doctor said, his body sagging as his enthusiasm deflated.

"Oh," Clara said, equally deflated.

"But!" The Doctor held his hand up in the air, "I know where we'll start."

Clara gasped as The Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the gallery and towards the TARDIS.

"Doctor! Where are we going?" she asked, watching as he began fiddling with buttons.

The Doctor looked at her, and a mischievous grin spread across his face, "1562, England."

* * *

**A/N: Happy almost November 23rd! So I wrote this one after seeing like one of the first previews with Clar saying 'It's not possible' about the painting of Gallifrey. There shouldn't be any spoilers here, unless of course I'm amazing at guessing. Which I'm not. So don't worry. I'd love reviews. **


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